Exhaustion
by Shropdoc
Summary: Because no matter how hard you want to keep going, there comes a point when you just have to stop. Missing scene s . First fic - be nice!
1. Just keep on keeping on

Exhaustion

Disclaimer: Unfortunately none of these characters belong to me; I'm only borrowing them...

Author's Note: This was written in a very sleep deprived state after my seventh night shift... because no matter how much you want to keep going, there comes a point when you just have to stop. Also, I'm English... so please forgive the non-American spelling.

First Fic, any constructive comments welcome!

AN2 – Now corrected for the fact that I can't spell – even in English!

Captain James T Kirk squinted at the forward display of the Enterprise as he tried to decipher the data being transmitted from the engine room. Over the past few hours (or was it days?) since the black hole, he had gone through the whole spectrum of tiredness. He'd started to yawn not long after they'd escaped the event horizon and he'd now reached the stage where he was having trouble seeing straight. The minute he stopped concentrating, the data started to morph into a blurred mass.

The more he stared at the screen, the more intrusive his headache became. It had started after he'd woken from Bone's chemical cocktail and had only got worse with his exhaustion. The combination of no sleep & too much adrenaline, when coupled with so many foreign substances flowing around in his bloodstream, was not turning out to be a particularly good one. He snorted, after all, with a friend like this – who needed enemies? Although he had to admit that he would have preferred Bones on one of his missions to the giant Romulan any day.

Looking around the bridge, he experienced a sudden rush of happiness – at least it had all worked out in the end, at least they were all still alive. He would have preferred it if Bones had worked out a different way of smuggling him onto the ship, one with less unpleasant side effects for the unfortunate 'victim', but they were alive... unlike so many of his fellow cadets.

He tired mind forgot the contents of the report for Starfleet command that Lieutenant Uhura was trying to collate, as he remembered all of the cadets that were still missing in action. Those who, but for a moment of frustration at the sheer unfairness of the Kobayashe Maru, he could have joined in their silent grave amongst the wreckage of Vulcan. He consciously tried to drag his mind back to the mundane status reports they were sending to Starfleet, and managed a whole thirty seconds of attention before his mind was off again. This time, trying to think of another way that he could have stowed away. It was a measure of how tired he was that all he could think of was just getting on the shuttle and pretending he was meant to be there. It was a Jim-Kirk original, straight, to the point, and utterly ludicrous. He was just trying to work out the chances of success without being arrested by security and sent straight to the brig, when...

"Keptin?" The query came from Chekhov, and Jim came back to himself with a start. He realised that half the bridge now appeared to be looking at him. Spock in particular had a strange look in his eyes that might almost be mistaken for concern if he actually believed that the Vulcan was capable of showing any emotion.

"Yes?" He replied, hoping to cover his momentary zone-out, and encourage Chekhov to further explain whatever it was that he had said during his little day dream.

Thankfully, whatever Mr Chekhov had wanted to ask him had to wait, as Scott hailed him from the engine room. His ear was treated to a long rant that started off about the feasibility of using sub-light engines to return home but which then managed to meander into how he was convinced that Admiral Archer's beagle was probably just hiding out simply because it was in a mood about... something and wasn't lost in space/time at all. He knew that there must have been a connection between the two but he'd gotten lost somewhere between the warp drive and the dog.

He took a deep breath and concentrated on what he could remember of the start of the conversation and attempted to convert the science-speak into English – Bones wasn't the only one who wasn't a physicist.

Gritting his teeth, he turned his attention to the flow of speech coming over the radio, which had somehow moved onto the subject of whether Scott would be allowed to requisition a giant Hoover to clean up a little green alien that had apparently taken up residence in _his_ engine room...

"Mr Scott?" He was aiming for calm and authoritative but he suspected it came out as more of a tired grouch.

"Huh?"

Scotty was obviously not used to being interrupted in mid-rant. Jim wondered whether the little green alien currently inhabiting the engine room had ever bothered to try and get a word in edgeways or whether it had just gone with the flow and nodded in all the right places.

"So, given what you just told me, what do you expect our ETA to be at Earth?"

Again, Jim attempted 'reasonable' but it came out with more of an edge. This earned him another quick sideways glance from Spock. He'd have missed it if he hadn't been watching the Vulcan covertly. It wasn't that he didn't trust him, it was just he remembered the Vulcan's hands around his throat only too well, and he definitely didn't want a repeat of that little scene.

"Errr, sorry Captain. What I was trying to say was that there's going to be a delay. With the ejection of the warp cores we're unable to use the warp drive and are dependent on sub-light engines. It'll be another four to five days before Starfleet command can bring us a replacement core that's compatible. This new design is _great_ but it's not like they've got a spare warp core for brand new ships hanging around in the store cupboard. There was a reason why the commander asked you not to scratch her!"

Jim sighed, his headache returning with a vengeance. He enjoyed being captain, it made him feel alive in ways that he'd never experienced before and made him feel closer to his father than he'd ever felt in his life. He felt completely at home sitting in the Captains chair, even if he did wish that it had a higher back so it provided a little more support. His head kept dipping as he struggled to stay awake.

He hadn't felt like this since after his infamous "car incident" when he was thirteen. The sheer adrenaline rush of simply being alive after such a close call – there was nothing like it. However, right now, he was coming down from said adrenaline rush and, quite bluntly, he wouldn't have minded warping back to earth. Or, failing that, any bed in the near vicinity – he wasn't fussed.

Commanding a ship in the heat of the moment seemed to come naturally to him, his self confidence and natural bounce had carried his crew along with him. He was just relieved that he'd been right. That he had been able to match Nero's unpredictability, save Earth and keep his promise to Captain Pike. But the heat of the battle had passed now and he was faced with the problem of a starship manned entirely by an exhausted, inexperienced crew, with a far from experienced Captain. It was enough to make him think longingly of cruising along the wide, open Idaho roads so long ago.

Sighing, he turned back to Chekhov and slowly waded through the thorny task of deciding what, exactly, they were going to transmit to Starfleet. His crew were all fresh out of the academy and remembering how to compose a report for a senior officer was difficult enough, without having to deal with the contents. Jim wasn't sure how long he'd continue to sit in this chair once his report crossed the vast distances back to earth. Stowing away, mutiny, disobeying every order and protocol he'd ever been taught... not exactly the kind of thing Jim wanted to put in the report of his first command.

Sighing, he turned to the next problem at hand, discussing with his department heads how best to go about the repairs to the ship. Thankfully Scott had remained in the engine room to continue with the repairs, so he only had to cope with his comments coming through his earpiece. He suspected it would have been harder to ignore him if he was standing around on the bridge. Knowing him, he would probably start tinkering with the bridge consoles in an effort to 'improve' them. He really didn't have the energy to cope with his bridge consoles suddenly going offline when the engineer got his hands on them – he really had enough on his plate as it was.

The gravity-well of the black hole hadn't been kind, crushing & stressing his ship in a million different ways. He really hoped that Captain Pike wouldn't be too angry about the rather large 'scratches' that had occurred on the paintwork during his watch. He started, suddenly realising that his input was required again. At least this time he hadn't zoned out so much, that he hadn't been able to follow the thread of the conversation.

After several minutes of discussion, he nodded at the other department heads and watched as they left one by one, heads deep in discussion about the work ahead. He turned back to watch the activity on the bridge and came face-to-face with someone he definitely didn't want to see for the foreseeable future. He had hoped that he'd left with the other department heads to oversee the organisation of the over-stressed sick bay.

"Bones! What can I do for you?" Maybe if he sounded energetic and healthy he would be spared the visit to the medical bay that he could see rapidly approaching in his future.

"Walk with me?" Bones requested "I need to discuss Captain Pike's situation as well as several other.... issues."

Jim glanced at him out of the corner of his eye wondering what he was up to. Normally Bones didn't do subtle, he was one of the most straightforward men that Jim knew – what you saw was literally what you got... even when you didn't really want to hear it. After a couple of moments he realised he was daydreaming again and reluctantly hoisted himself out of the captain's chair.

It was only when he was halfway up that he realised he'd perhaps made a tactical error as his head began to swim, and his vision began to cloud over. He felt his legs beginning to give way and would have made an undignified heap on the floor if it hadn't been for two pairs of hands gripping him, guiding him back into his chair and gently pushing his head between his knees.

He came back to himself a few seconds later to find the bridge crew hurrying to obey Spock as he snapped orders at them; thankfully they appeared to have decided to ignore his little episode. He quietly thanked the nearest convenient deity for the loyalty of his crew, and for the fact that they were all more than a little afraid of the Vulcan after his display of temper earlier.

He took a deep breath and was about to try again when a strong hand landed on his shoulder, pressing him down into his seat, and a concerned face drifted in front of him.

"When was the last time you slept Jim? Heck, when was the last time you ate?!" Bones demanded of him, feeling his pulse with one hand, and discretely waving the scanner over him with the other.

Jim opened his mouth to answer before realising that he really couldn't remember. He'd grabbed the odd bite to eat when he could. Scotty had gone on a food-hunting mission after he'd found his towel on their return from the ice planet and he'd bought back enough for the entire bridge crew (and then refused to share any). Jim had managed to grab a few mouthfuls anyway; although the way the man acted, you'd have thought he'd stolen his life's savings, not one of his sandwiches. But sleep? That was a difficult one! He hadn't slept since before the hearing, back on earth. However long ago that was. He got the feeling that more time had passed than 24 hours, but they'd been so busy, one thing after another, with never a moment for him to pause, catch his breath or close his eyes for a second.

"Jim? Jim!"

He dragged his attention back to his oldest friend in Starfleet and tried to give him a weak smile.

"I'm fine" He insisted, trying to ignore the exasperated eye rolling that was coming from his doctor friend.

"Look Jim, there are two ways that we can do this. Either you come with me to get checked out in the infirmary under the pretence of seeing Captain Pike, or I'll get Spock to hold you down and I'll sedate your arse into next week!" Bones hissed, trying to keep his voice low enough so that the rest of the bridge weren't aware of the conversation.

Unfortunately this didn't appear to have worked very well.

"It is indeed the logical thing to do captain" Spock stated, before turning and berating one of the junior communication techs for an error in her report.

Jim sighed "You win" he grumbled. "I'll come with you and get checked out, but then I'm coming straight back here. You hear me? You're not drugging me again today, I've had enough of that!"

"We'll see" was all that Bones replied, before sticking out his hand and hauling him slowly to his feet.

This time he felt less dizzy and he was able to turn to his second in command without swaying too much.

"You have the Conn Mr Spock. I need to go and check on Captain Pike. Please start rotating the crew, and staggering sleep-shifts"

"It is the logical thing to do Captain" Spock intoned. "I will see that it is done".

Holding his head high, he walked the ten steps to the transporter with only a little bit of weaving. He took advantage of the pause before the transporter reached its destination to find a bit of wall that looked like it might be about to fall down and proceeded to prop it up with his body... At least that's what he liked to think.

Bones hovered by his Captain and friend, ready to catch him when he fell because he could see the signs coming a mile off. He'd suspected this moment was going to come ever since he'd seen the condition of Jim after he'd returned from the Romulan ship. It was always like this at the academy; Jim would continue to push himself until he'd reach complete exhaustion. At this point he'd usually find a quiet corner to curl up in and not emerge for 48 hours. Unfortunately he didn't think that was going to be an option right now.

There was a slight whoosh as the transporter doors opened into the med bay and Bones felt the chaos reaching out to him once again.

"Come on Jimbo" he muttered, and strode out into the busy med bay, heading for the nurses desk where he could see Nurse Chapel doing something to the remote monitors.

It was only when he failed to hear any protest at the nick-name that he realised that something was wrong. He swiftly turned back to the transporter and was just in time to catch his friend as he once again took a dive for the floor.

Jim had managed to hold it together until the transporter doors had softly opened, he'd even tried to follow the sarcastic doctor out into the infirmary when his legs had started to give way.

This time there was no chair to hold him, just the floor and a grey softness which seemed to be closing in on him. He sighed and let go, slumping down to the transporter floor in a boneless heap.

-x-


	2. When the adrenaline hits the system

Disclaimer – Still not mine, sigh.

A/N – Thanks for all the reviews everyone, you're all so kind! I felt guilty and had to go and write another chapter, but then work happened (European working time directive? What European working time directive?).

Here goes with part two, sorry for the delay.... There may even be a part three... possibly.

Chapter 2 – When the adrenaline hits the system

Waking up took a supreme effort. He felt like he was sinking into the ground, and opening his eyes to find out where he was, was just too much like hard work. In fact, everything seemed like too much work right now, so he just let himself go and drifted back to sleep.

-x-

It was a pair of intrusive hands, pushing & prodding at him and causing him pain, that finally pierced the grey fog he was wrapped in. Cracking open his eyes a blurred face swam into view. His brain was still exhausted from the trauma of the past few days, and, not entirely accepting that it was all over; put two and two together and came up with five. The benign face of Bones morphed into the grinning visage of Nero, tattoos and all. He reacted on instinct, trying to fling an arm up to fight off the Romulan, at the same time as swinging his legs over the side of the bed and trying to get into a more defensible position. At least he would have, if the blaring alarms from his biobed hadn't confused him, a strong pair of arms hadn't grabbed him, and, if he hadn't got his legs tangled with the sheets and almost ended up in a heap on the floor.

"Woah Jim, it's alright, calm down! You're ok, I've got you. It's ok."

It took Bones' familiar voice and a pair of firm, but gentle, hands on his shoulders to calm him down. He started to struggle out of the tangle of sheets he was in, before giving up, feeling like he'd just run a marathon.

"You back with me now Jim? Never mind, let's get you straightened out a bit here, why you feel the need to go off for a run the minute you wake up in my nice sickbay I don't know. Anyone would think you don't like it! We don't smell do we?"

The stream of words coming from the doctor's mouth helped to orientate him and give him a few moments to wake up, which probably had been Bones' aim in the first place. The doctor might like to moan at (and about) Jim at great length, but in the end, he only had his Captain's best interests at heart.

He blinked, coming back to himself to find that he'd been settled back in the bed and was now reclining at a comfortable angle, raised enough to see what was going on in the rest of sickbay but still comfortable enough for sleeping. Bones was now standing back, hands on his hips looking critically at his Captain.

"You're a mess – you know that?"

"Wha...?" OK, so maybe he wasn't going to win any prizes for being the most coherent guy in the room, but thankfully Bones seemed to understand what he was trying to say.

"Sometimes I wonder about you. Do you seriously expect to go swanning around in sub-zero temperatures, then tangle with an angry Vulcan before going five rounds with various tetchy Romulans and not expect some kind of consequences?"

"Huh?"

"You're not invincible! I know that it takes a while for an idea to sink into your head, but you really need to work at taking better care of yourself."

He grunted and shifted, trying to find a position where he didn't ache quite so much. After a couple of moments of trying to wake himself up enough to defend himself against Bones, he decided that it really wasn't worth the effort and relaxed back into the biobed's thin mattress. Trying to deal with Bones when he was angry enough to look like he had steam coming out of his ears, was really just too much like hard work at the moment.

"That's the idea" muttered Bones "Get some sleep; you're going to need it"

-x-

It seemed like no time at all before he was being roused from his comfortable black-hole by the sound of raised voices. He lay there, trying to work out what was going on, and who had dragged him from his slumbers. The voices turned up a notch, and he dragged his eyes open to find out what was going on. Spock was standing in front of a flushed & angry-looking Bones, with his second-in-command looking, if it were at all possible, even more uptight and rigid than normal. This was enough for him to start to gather his thoughts and struggle to sit up on the bed. It was the emergency alarms which _really_ got his attention though, and gave him a big enough adrenaline rush to make it upright.

His instructors would be proud of him, the sound of the alarm had sent adrenaline rushing through his system and he was already running through the various emergency protocols even before he'd managed to extricate his legs from the sheets. This was _his_ ship and he was not going to let it explode... or whatever this particular alarm was for. Whilst the Starfleet training, coupled with the past few days, had changed him into one of Pavlov's dogs where the alarms were concerned, he still couldn't actually remember what this particular alarm meant. Something told him it wasn't the dinner bell.

Reeling from the large amount of adrenaline that was now circulating around his body, he grabbed the clothes next to his bed. McCoy had obviously not had time to brief his staff about his Captain's habit of attempting to escape, because some short-sighted corpsman had actually left him his own clothes - which had even been cleaned. Bones' usual way of keeping his injured friend in the sickbay usually involved stealing (almost) all of Jim's clothes... he didn't mind the women he bedded seeing him naked, but he had always drawn the line at the rest of San Francisco having a good look at Jim Kirk's nearly-naked body.

The noise from the other end of the sickbay had become, if it were at all possible, louder. He hoped it was because Spock was attempting to distract the doctor and allow him time to escape, and not because the Vulcan was _really_ getting angry. His neck had had a close encounter with his second-in-command in that mood, and he didn't really want anyone else to share the same fate. Bones' was certainly getting angry, his replies now contained language that Jim hadn't heard him use since the time one of the junior crew had suggested the doctor try space-walking as a form of relaxation. He quickly glanced in their direction, so far so good – no violence yet. He struggled to get his clothes on as quickly as possible, hoping they were the right way round. He wanted to be out of sickbay before Bones' temper got the better of him and he assaulted the Vulcan with his Tricorder.

He was still struggling to work out which shoe went on which foot, when the argument suddenly stopped, and sickbay was silent. Fearing that the doctor had resorted to grievous bodily harm or even drugging his second in command (which would be a considerable problem seeing as he still didn't know what was going on with his ship) he quickly looked up.

"And where do you think you're going Captain?"

This wasn't his friend Bones' voice, this was Dr McCoy, in full blown Chief Medical Officer mode. A chief medical officer who was standing right in front of him and looking far from happy.

He cursed silently; he really didn't feel up to persuading the doctor that he was fully recovered, because, quite honestly, he wasn't. He'd been relying on sneaking out behind his friends back and being on the bridge before anyone had realised that he was missing.

He was just gathering his thoughts when the Enterprise made the decision for him. A shudder ran through her and the noise of her engines changed from a dull hum, right on the edge of hearing, to a squeal that sounded like nails on a classroom blackboard. This was enough to galvanise him into action and he was halfway out of the door accompanied by Spock before the harassed doctor even realised the biobed in front of him was now empty.

Bones stared at the empty bed in front of him and the empty spot by his side and wondered whether he was getting old. He never used to have this much trouble keeping his friend in the sickbay when he was hurt. Admittedly, they weren't usually on a starship that sounded like it might explode any second at the time, but still. It was the principle of the thing. He frowned and cursed his tired brain & his stupid, stubborn ass-hat of a captain before wondering whether he should take some of his own advice and get some sleep. The Enterprise gave another shudder and he sighed. He was going to have to give up on that plan until he was certain they weren't going to have another influx of casualties, or be blown to bits in some new and interesting way.

-x-

Once the transporter door had closed on him and his first officer, Jim turned to Spock.

"So, what did you do to my ship whilst I was having my little nap?"

Spock took a deep breath and glared at him. If looks could kill, Jim was certain he'd be pushing up the daisies right now – which didn't stop him giving the Vulcan a grin and making a come-on motion with his hands.

"The sub-light engines are currently locked in an overload cycle and are not responding to appropriate commands Captain. Mr Scott's whereabouts are currently unknown. He is on a scheduled sleep cycle and told his staff that he would 'brain them' if they disturbed him, without telling anyone where they could disturb him."

The transporter doors opened onto the bridge before he could reply to these comments and, taking a deep breath, he strode out into his domain; trying to leave his exhaustion behind him in the lift. He was not particularly successful.

"Reports!" He barked, turning around and fixing all of the bridge staff with a steady glare.

Quickly he listened to the reports of what had been going on since he was last on the bridge. Ignoring most of the data being thrown at him, he instead concentrated on the situation in the engine room. It turned out that the majority of the senior engineering staff had either been injured during the Romulan attack, or were fast asleep. Including one very absent chief engineering officer. The junior engineers who remained hadn't immediately picked up on the problem. Their inexperience had been compounded by their fatigue, resulting in what could be a lethal mistake. Luckily, as part of the watch-protocol, a full system diagnostic had been run, which had flagged up the build-up of power from the overloading engines. Despite their inexperience, there were Starfleet protocols for everything, and the engineers had managed to bleed-off some of the energy the engines were building up. Enough to buy them some time, but not enough to prevent them from going 'Kaboom' if they didn't get this sorted out.

Turning to the technician manning the communications station, a junior cadet who he recognised as being barely out of her second year at the academy, he gave her a reassuring smile.

"Has anyone thought to check out the kitchens? With the alarms on there shouldn't be anyone in there, and I wouldn't be surprised if Mr Scott hadn't decided he required further sandwiches."

She started, and flushed; obviously flustered that anyone was paying any attention to her. Jim quickly turned away so she wouldn't see the expression of frustration on his face, and wondered whether he'd ever been so naive and under-confident.

"I will check now captain" She murmured and was soon fiddling with her board. Jim tried not to look over his shoulder at her, he was sure that she was competent to do her job; although he had to admit that having the acting-captain hovering near, was probably not helping.

Spock glanced over at him, and, seeing the direction of his attention and the worried look on his face, slowly wandered over to the technician's station and murmured a few words in her ear. The technician turned even redder (if that was at all possible) and struck a few keys on her board, before pausing a second and then letting out a burst of laughter.

"Sir? I'll just put this up on the main screen." You could hear the laughter in her voice and Jim turned, puzzled, towards the screen, failing to control his own burst of laughter when he saw the scene.

Scotty had obviously got as far as the canteen, before deciding that his cabin was just too far away to walk back to. He was curled up on one of the benches at the side of the mess hall, gently clutching his little green alien friend from Delta Vega; both of them fast asleep.

"If someone could please wake Mr Scott and escort him down to the engine room?" Jim asked, hoping that the engineer would be able to fix whatever it was that was going on down there. Seconds later, Scotty was being roughly shaken by an extremely stressed looking technician dressed in an engineering uniform. The technician looked like he had had to drag the engineering officer off the bench and onto the floor before Scotty even started to show signs of waking. He still looked barely coherent when the technician started dragging him out of the door, talking at great speed.

Barely a minute had passed before Jim's ears detected a change in the engine noise and then seconds later they were filled with a broad Scottish voice coming over the radio, cursing whoever it was that had messed with _his_ engine room and could the crew please remember which buttons were which?

Taking a deep breath, Jim abandoned the idea of trying to break into the Scotsman's tirade and decided to just let him continue ranting. It seemed the easier option, especially since his headache, which had been banished by his rest in the infirmary, was starting to make another appearance.

By the time the voice coming into his earpiece started to quieten and slow down, Jim was staring into the middle distance beyond the view-screen – concentrating on the stars and trying to ignore the throbbing behind his eyes.

The rush of adrenaline which had once again carried him through the emergency, was now fading away. He had a horrible feeling that he was going to end up curled in a heap in the corner if he had to listen to any more of the angry sounding Scottish gibberish coming over the radio. Scotty's accent had, if at all possible, become broader and more incomprehensible the longer his complaint had gone on.

Jim once again took a deep breath in.

"Scotty?" he interrupted "If you're quite finished?"

"Sorry Captain, I was a little distracted. The overload has been reversed, the engines are back to normal and I'm going back to bed."

Jim took a deep breath and prepared himself for a further rant, which was bound to follow his next question.

"Can you tell me what exactly happened Mr Scott? Just so we don't have another repeat of today's little concert. It's not that I don't like emergency alarms, but they do grate on your nerves a little"

-x-

Down in the engine room, Scotty paused and re-considered what he was going to say. The Captain's tone conveyed that perhaps the engineering officer wasn't the only one who had been dragged from his bed by the emergency.

"We're very short staffed down here Captain. In order for everyone to get some sleep, we've been drafting in help from other areas of the ship. In hindsight perhaps not the best thing to do, but they were instructed not to touch anything and to come and get someone who actually knew what they were doing in an emergency. There was always one of us there!"

"I see." His captain's, flat, non-judgmental voice came over the communicator, making Scotty wince. He realised that it wasn't ideal, but they just hadn't had any other options – and the Enterprise was still in one piece wasn't she?

"Anyway, one of the junior engine technician's reliefs had been seriously injured in the little brush we had with the black hole earlier. No-one came to relieve him so instead of coming to wake one of us up he just kept going and may have ." He finished the last bit in a rush, broadening his accent in the hope that his captain wouldn't be able to follow what he had said.

"Very well Mr Scott, I suppose these things happen. Could you please ensure that the person in question gets some sleep now? Kirk out."

Scotty sighed. He guessed that could have gone better, but at least the captain had appeared ready to let the poor bugger off the hook, even if his plan to try and disguise what had happened appeared to have failed. Turning, he glanced kindly at the drooping technician curled up in the chair next to him.

"Come on! Let's get you to bed; I think you've had enough excitement for one day". He muttered as he dragged his exhausted underling out of the chair and towards the lifts.

-x-

Back on the bridge Jim sighed and rubbed his temples in an attempt to ease his headache. He was sure that he wasn't supposed to be Captain any more since Pike was back on board but that didn't seem to stop them from asking him to clear up their messes.


	3. Coming down the other side

Chapter 3 – Coming down the other side

A/N – Sorry for the delay in posting, and the shortish chapter, but since I lasted posted I've changed jobs and moved house as well as working lots of overtime. Anyway, I'm back on the night shifts, so here's a little more sleep deprived Jim. I'm not sure if this chapter is a bit OOC, so would love a little feedback – thanks guys.

Once again, not mine. If they were, I'd pay someone to deal with this nasty thing called punctuation!

-x-

Jim let his gaze wander around the bridge and shifted slightly in the captain's chair; desperately trying to give the appearance of someone who was relaxed, awake, in control, and (most importantly) knew what they were doing. In reality, his mind was running in circles, sluggishly trying to take in everything that had happened over the past... however long it had been; as well as trying to work out what he needed to do next.

After returning from the Romulan vessel with Captain Pike, he had been caught up in the whirlwind of duties required as acting Captain of a crippled ship, stranded far too close to a Black Hole for comfort. He'd tried to guide his crew and anticipate all of the problems, but in reality, he mused, they had just lurched from one crisis to the next with him being too tired to sort everything out.

He was self-aware enough to realise that when he'd had some more sleep he would probably be more objective, but right now he was beyond exhausted, and all he could think about were his mistakes. His usual method of coping was to pretend that nothing had happened and to carry on as usual. Like so many other things in his life, he had shut the episode away in a box labelled 'do not even go there' in his head. It was a good method and something he had perfected as a teenager, often aided & abetted by a large helping of alcohol. After all, who wants to remember that your father was blown up whilst you were being born, and your mother preferred deep space to your company, leaving you with a step father who couldn't stand to be in the same room as you.

Unfortunately, as a coping mechanism, it was only a short term measure, and he would be ambushed by the memories when he least wanted it. He used to wake late at night and scramble up the guttering to the roof of their Iowa home, where he tried to banish the memory of his step-fathers expression when he found out what he had done to his precious car. It's not easy to realise that you are less important than a lump of metal to those who care for you. Despite him trying to concentrate on the Bridge and his duties, the memories of Nero were starting to seep around the walls he had erected in his mind – he kept catching flickers of movement in the corner of his eyes that his tired mind translated into Nero's face, or Spock's angry hands.

He took a deep breath and tried to get a grip on his emotions. He'd done his very best within the confines of his own experience and, at the end of the day; the majority of his crew were still alive. Rationally, he understood that his emotions were mostly due to the coming down from the stream of adrenaline 'highs' that had been carrying him through the various crises that had occurred since he'd left sick bay. In fact, he had a feeling that if he wasn't careful, he might fall asleep in his chair... knowing his luck, he'd start dribbling, or snore, or slowly slide down onto the floor. He frowned and tried to direct his attention back to his work - falling asleep and embarrassing himself was not going to help the 'mature-captain' image that he was trying to project.

Realising that something more was required, he hoisted himself out of his chair and started to drift around the bridge. He hoped that it appeared that he was checking up on his crew's progress, but in reality he was more concerned about getting the blood moving in his legs and preventing himself from falling asleep. He didn't recognise most of them, as virtually all of the crew had been rotated to allow everyone to get some sleep. Despite the fact that they were working outside of their usual areas, they all seemed to be working diligently and (dare he say it?), competently. Even the communications technician who had seemed so under-confident earlier now seemed to have settled in, and was performing her duties much more calmly and quickly.

The last of the crew had been rotated over three hours ago when the engines had finally been fixed. Even the last, lowly, weapons technician, so junior that he didn't really do anything more than clean the floors and supply his seniors with endless cups of caffeinated beverages during crises, had been packed off to get some sleep. He'd been surprised to learn that all of the departmental heads had quietly begun rotating their crews to allow everyone some rest whilst he'd been "seeing Captain Pike" in the infirmary. It reassured him somewhat, even if he had no idea what he was doing half the time, his senior crew seemed to be more than competent. In fact, he was quite certain that he was the last member of the crew who still hadn't been stood down to get some proper sleep. Time spent unconscious in the infirmary, really didn't count.

He had been concerned that both Spock and Bones would refuse to go and sleep since both of them were obviously beyond exhausted. However, it hadn't been nearly as difficult as he had thought it would be.

Jim had been surprised about how little fight Bones had put up when he'd contacted him and ordered him to get some rest. In fact, his CMO had sounded so little like himself that he had quietly contacted the head nurse to find out what was wrong. He smiled to himself as he remembered that conversation. Bones had apparently been reluctant to leave Captain Pike, so his relief had quietly made him some coffee with a little extra something added into it. By the time that Jim had contacted him, it had had time to kick-in, and the sleepy doctor required very little persuading to go and get some sleep. He might protest that the past few days had been nothing, especially when compared with his internship when he was straight out of university, during which, he claimed he had gone weeks at a time with no sleep. However, Bones might not like to admit it, but his internship had been a little over twenty years ago and he certainly wasn't as young as he'd like everyone else to think he was.

(Jim was just glad that he hadn't been the only one who had been drugged against their will on this trip.)

Spock had been slightly more difficult. The Vulcan was normally very observant and would never have believed Jim when he stated that he was 'well-rested' and 'fine', since even Jim had to admit that he was far from this. Despite Spock being emotionally traumatised from the destruction of his planet and so exhausted that he was virtually sleepwalking, he still managed to give Jim a shrewd glance and start to protest that he didn't need a break. Spock really hadn't stood a chance against Jim, once persuasion failed he just turned around and instructed one of the junior technicians to find Uhura and bring her to the bridge. Her concern for Spock had over-ruled her exhaustion so that she dragged herself out of her bed and onto the bridge within five minutes. Between them, they had managed to persuade Spock to take a break. His second in command had only left on the understanding that he would be woken in an hour in order to relieve his captain. That had been three hours ago, and Jim had no intention of waking up the slumbering Vulcan. He'd exchanged a glance with Uhura on her way out, and he knew that she would ensure that the Vulcan slept himself out before he was allowed back onto the bridge.

Coming back to himself with a start he realised he'd been daydreaming.... again. Glancing guiltily around the bridge he once again checked that none of the crew had noticed his momentary lapse in concentration. They were becoming more frequent as his fatigue caught up with him and he knew that he would soon have to hand over command to someone who'd had proper sleep instead of a period of unconsciousness in the infirmary. Meanwhile, he would stave off this moment as long as possible in order to let everyone else get some much-needed sleep.

Returning to the command-chair, he bought out his computer and started to compile yet another report for Starfleet command. He had been avoiding the reports that would be required about the destruction of Vulcan since it was all too recent; the emotions and experiences were just too raw for him to handle without at least a week's worth of sleep. He had scribbled down the order of events soon after they happened so that he wouldn't forget the main points; but he really didn't feel able to return to it whilst he was so tired and his emotions so close to the surface. Instead, he started to gather the data about the recent engine malfunction. He avoided putting the technicians name in the report, he couldn't blame them for their mistake - it hadn't been their fault that no-one came to relieve them. However, at the end of the day they should have known their limits and known when they became too tired to function properly. He made a mental note to have a quiet word and find out who had been supervising the engine bay in Scotty's absence. He couldn't tolerate having a supervisor who failed to notice the needs of the men under his command or who was unapproachable. He was well aware of the dangers that originated when juniors were unable to get support when they needed it. They'd had it drilled into them when they were in the Academy. Starfleet wanted it's cadets to have initiative, but not in areas they were unfamiliar with, after all, one day they might find themselves in a situation just like this.

Which all led him back to the question of what he was doing here, as Captain of the Enterprise, a position he really wasn't sure that he was experienced enough to hold. Captain Kirk. Who would have thought it all those years ago?

Jim sat back and sighed. It was ironic really. To have survived Nero's attacks and the destruction of Vulcan, only to have the Enterprise almost destroyed by a mistake borne of fatigue.

It was something that Jim rapidly realised that he was also guilty of. He couldn't really pretend that the time he had spent in the infirmary could count as sleep, even though he had tried to persuade Spock that it had. Whilst it hadn't been proper sleep, it had helped a little bit, and, when coupled with the adrenaline flooding through his veins in response to the engine crisis, it had carried him through the past few hours with little or no problems. Now that the adrenaline had disappeared he was starting to droop a little bit.

He checked the status and locations of his senior crew. Both Spock and Bones were listed as 'off-duty' and located in the crew's quarters. They had both worked so hard to keep everyone alive that he really didn't feel he could wake them. Out of all of the crew, the only one awake was Scotty, and Jim wasn't entirely sure that he could trust him with the Enterprise. He was a brilliant engineering officer, but Jim didn't trust him not to have completely re-built half the ship by the time he came back on duty.

He sighed deeply and signalled the galley to bring the bridge crew some coffee. Strictly speaking, they weren't allowed drinks on the bridge due to the delicate equipment that didn't work very well if anything got spilled into it. However, they were all getting tired, particularly him. It would be cruel to sit and drink coffee in front of the entire bridge crew, but at least this way, he could pretend that he was getting coffee to share with everyone else on the bridge and not that he needed it to stay awake.

-zzzzzzz-

Pls R&R and tell me what you think. The final part will hopefully be out in the next week or so, depending on whether I have to cover any of the vacant shifts at work or not...


	4. Remembering That You're Not Alone

Chapter Four – Remembering that you're not alone

-x-

Thinking about the technician caused Jim to slow down and start to re-check his work. He really didn't want to blow the Enterprise up through sheer stupidity because he was tired. He may not have managed to keep his promise to Captain Pike (he suspected that missing warp cores would count as more than a 'scratch'), but at least the rest of the Enterprise was... relatively... unscathed. She was certainly still in one piece... kind of.

And so he continued like this for the next couple of hours. Desperate to not make a mistake, he considered every decision twice and asked for opinions from every source he could. He had wanted to project the image of an all-knowing Captain, but he was also sensible enough to realise that if he didn't want to make a stupid mistake then he should probably double-check things with people who had actually had some sleep in the past twenty four hours.

-x-

Bones shuffled himself deeper under his covers, happy to stay cocooned in the warmth of his bedclothes for just a little while longer. For once, he was content to let his juniors take the strain. After all, hadn't he earned it?

He probably would have managed to continue in this way for a few hours more, if one of the half-awake environmental technicians hadn't staggered back from the toilets without waking up properly and taken the third door on the right instead of the second door on the left. Trying to navigate across what he thought was his cabin without needing to open his eyes; he unfortunately walked right into the chief medical officer's table and knocked its contents to the floor. The resulting clatter would have been enough to wake the dead, let alone a doctor used to being awakened suddenly by various emergencies. Years of catching sleep in various odd places had left Bones with an instinctive knowledge of where the nearest exit was; a useful fact when the crash bleep went off at five am. Unfortunately for the technician, the table he was currently entangled with was directly between the bed and the cabin door. Before Bones even realised he was awake and that he was upright, he was entangled in a very confused, half-asleep... someone.

After a few seconds of them trying to escape from each other, one of them managed to flick the lights on. Once there was light, Bones was confronted with a bemused, half-asleep crew-member, blinking sleepily and looking confused. He quickly guided the technician back out into the corridor. Thankfully, the man made straight for one of the other doors and quickly disappeared inside without returning. Bones hoped that was his cabin, and waited around for a few seconds. He could always go back and search the cabin assignments if the man reappeared. After five minutes Bones decided that he'd either made it to the right cabin this time, or whoever was occupying it was too tired to notice they had acquired a bunk-mate!

It wasn't every day that a complete stranger wandered into his room, but why couldn't they have been young and female instead of middle aged and podgy?

One of the down-sides about managing to wake up suddenly and completely; was that once Bones was awake, he didn't have a hope of getting back to sleep again. Shrugging, he decided to at least do something productive with his time. Turning on his bedside console, he checked on the status of his patients in the sickbay and then sent out a query as to the current location of his Captain. He had a vague memory of Spock stating that he would be relieving the Captain in an hour – and, looking at his watch, that had been over five hours ago. Bones had too much experience of all the various tricks Jim could play when he didn't want to do something. He knew better than to believe that Spock was on the bridge and his Captain was tucked up in bed – sometimes the man was like a small child, trying to trick everyone into believing that it wasn't his bedtime yet.

The console chimed and he looked at it with narrowed eyes before cursing and heading into the shower to get cleaned up. The stubborn man was still on the bridge! Why hadn't he come to wake anyone else? Well, he could actually answer that one himself he mused as he stood under the hot shower and let it wash away the fear-sweat and grime from the day before. His friend had always thought of others before himself, and had obviously just not wanted to wake anyone up. Bones' wasn't going to stand for this now; it was high time his friend headed off to get some rest of his own. He was sure that there were enough senior officers now awake who could take over from the Captain. His mind made up, he headed out of the shower and hastily towelled himself dry before rummaging in his locker for a clean uniform that didn't look like something that the dog had bought in. The fight with Nero's ship and escape from the subsequent black hole had thrown things around in his cabin, and his orderly pile of uniforms had become mixed in with the rest of his lockers contents. It was all a bit of a mess really, but it was definitely something that could be tackled another day – after he'd made sure that _everyone_ had managed to get _enough_ sleep. He was sure that Jim would claim that his spell in the infirmary counted and that he didn't need any extra sleep. He finally found something that didn't look too disgusting and pulled it on; he paused in front of the mirror in his cabin, trying to make sure he hadn't put his trousers on backwards or something, before heading out of the door.

-x-

Bones quietly stepped onto the bridge from the turbo-lift, nodding at the various personnel he recognised before his gaze came to rest on the Captain. His friend was sitting slumped in his chair looking at the screen of his computer as if the report written on it was in a foreign language. The angry rant that had formed in his mind died away as he watched his friend. His eyes appeared to have sunken into his head, drowning in the black bags forming beneath them. Bones was sure that he was only awake out of stubbornness, refusing to admit that it was time to leave, like a child who had stayed up past their bedtime. Casually he walked up behind his Captain, careful to make enough noise so that he wouldn't startle him – he didn't want a repeat of the episode in the infirmary thank you very much.

"Jim?" The voice was quiet and compassionate and pitched just right so that it didn't carry to the crew working at their stations.

Despite all of Bones' precautions, the gentle question still startled the Captain and he swung around, suddenly awake with his heart pounding.

"Bones, what are you doing here?" He glanced at the clock at the corner of the forward screen and frowned, "surely you haven't had enough sleep? What are you doing out of bed?"

"Do you even have to ask that Jim" Bones muttered, trying to keep his voice down so that the crew wouldn't have to hear the exchange. He had a pretty good idea that it was going to turn into a spectacular argument and wanted to spare them from having to listen to as much of it as possible.

"I was going to find somewhere to rest, honest!" Jim protested, hoping to get his excuses in before the doctor got the bit between his teeth and went off on another one of his rants.

"U-Huh," Bones said gently, trying to keep his Captain as calm as possible. Unfortunately, Jim didn't seem to take this in.

"I know you're going to start yelling at me, but I really didn't have any choice. Someone had to stay and run the ship and I'm the acting Captain, what if I left my post and something happened? What if someone died? All because I needed a little 'snooze'!" His voice started to rise and without seeming to realise it, he had stood and started to pace up and down.

He rounded on Bones and aggressively moved into his personal space, his anger replacing the adrenaline that had been keeping him going up until now.

"Who do you think I am?" He continued as he rounded on Bones and aggressively moved into his personal space, his anger replacing the adrenaline that had been keeping him going until now. "Do you honestly think I'd be able to live with myself? Besides, Starfleet wouldn't let me near anything bigger than a handglider ever again!"

The rest of the bridge crew had by now started to watch them unobtrusively from beneath lowered eyelashes. Bones sighed, he really hadn't wanted to make a scene, but he was starting to think that it was going to be unavoidable.

"Besides" Jim added "It's not like I've actually got anywhere to sleep, let alone anything to change into"

Bones winced and cursed himself for being an idiot. He'd forgotten this rather important point in all of the commotion that had followed. Cadet James Kirk wouldn't have had any quarters assigned to him because he wasn't even supposed to be on the ship, he was supposed to have remained in the Academy, awaiting disciplinary action.

Leonard took a long look at Jim and decided to try a slightly different tactic. Instead of trying to defend himself, Bones just nodded and then added casually.

"I went via the mess hall on my way over here, the cooks are all back and there's hot food available again. Fancy going to get some and then we can go and have a bite to eat in my cabin?"

Jim paused, he had been expecting a long rant from the doctor about being sensible and taking time out to sleep – he hadn't been expecting an offer of lunch. It was enough to make him pause for a moment, and his stomach, which up until now had just been supplying him with an endless taste of acid in the back of his throat, chose that moment to let out a loud gurgle and remind him that he hadn't eaten anything in a very long time.

"Chekhov & Sulu are on their way up" added Bones persuasively, "they are both more than competent to handle the enterprise for the half hour it takes to get some food" and the next twelve hours whilst you get some sleep he added on silently in his head.

Jim looked at him for a second, concentrating on his face; obviously trying to work out if he was telling the truth or if he was just trying to con him into leaving the bridge to get some sleep.

Bones raised his eyebrows inquisitively – "How about it? I hear they have freshly made coffee and desert as well."

Jim sat up straighter before hoisting himself out of his chair. "Enough! You win! I'm coming!"

Bones lay a friendly arm across his back and steered him towards the turbolift. Yes they would stop for coffee but there certainly wasn't going to be any caffeine in it. Besides, his cabin only had one chair in it, he was sure that Jim wouldn't mind sitting on the bed. After all, it was a very comfortable bed (despite being Starfleet issue) and he had a pretty good idea that once Jim sat down, he wouldn't be able to resist lying down and getting some sleep. And once he got some sleep? He doubted his friend would stir for the next twelve hours or so, and then? Well, they'd just have to deal with whatever came their way.

Finis.

Wow! Finally finished, I really can't believe it. I'm sorry it took me longer than anticipated to upload; I'm doing a lot of locum work to fill a vacant post on our rota, so pretty much have no time to write. This is certainly not one of my better efforts and I'm sorry for that but I did want to get this story finished so please just ignore the English spellings and lack of punctuation! Thanks to everyone who reviewed, it really kept me going when I didn't know where I was going to go with this. Next time I'll try and write the whole thing BEFORE posting!

Bx


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